When darkness
came
crowding in
leaving no room for solitude,
he looked up
and
believed,
in me.
So I do too.
Superhero
Complexed?
or just suffering
from one?
saving the world.
because I fear
my own soul is already
lost to perdition.
So,
without love
or compassion,
I set about,
making good works.
I carry, I soothe,
and patiently I guide…..
Does a true servant know any other way?
I serve this world,
faithfully?
giving everything
but myself.
That is kept locked away in a little box, Thriving? Rotting? Laughing? Crying.
Who knows? Who cares? It is safe, and so am I.
and this way,
i can give more.
So why is that not enough? Why is there still a burn, where there should only be void?
Journey
in the overwhelming silence
there
is a path.
drenched in darkness and threat,
it calls to me.
truth.
fearing the dark without
as i shun the light within-
no choice
but to walk again.
Alone.
Confessional
I have tried.
at times,
more purposefully
than others.
But
I have,
tried.
At what point do I seek the warm
embrace of you
my Muse-
forsaking all else
and
all others.
They do not understand,
and
I admit,
regretfully,
though I try,
I do not care for them
to
understand the essence,
the truth that I see,
the reality,
me.
In the beginning,
Many became One.
One,
a number only slightly
less
perfect than
None.
I seek perfection
but I can settle,
for Once.
A New Day
Superhero
Complexed?
Or just suffering from one?
I want to save the world.
Because I am afraid to rescue my own soul from perdition.
So,
Without love
or compassion,
I set about making good works.
I carry, and I soothe,
And patiently guide those I encounter along my way.
Does any true servant know of any other way? I serve this world faithfully, giving everything, but my soul.
That is kept locked away in a little box, Thriving? Rotting? Laughing? Crying.
Who knows? Who cares? It is safe, and so am I. And this way, by giving nothing I can give more.
So why is that not enough? Why is there still a burn, where there should only be void?
Silence
Within the silence
of husks abandoned,
rest the failed kernels
of magical symphonies
never to be heard.
notes and chords
harmoniously discordant,
and bewitching rhythms join
in a story of Truth.
We are all
Composers
And
Poets
-with performance anxiety.
Our gifts lay precious, intact, and
inside.
Perfectly wasted
in perfect solitude.
Bravo…
Bravo….
circles, spheres, and all things perfect.
I wanted
perfection
wrapped up in flaws.
I received
flawed beauty
reflected from without.
The hardest
thing I have never done
is to forget that I am not.
I give
until
I can’t,
then I roar
with the fierceness
of a potato.
When’s it all
over?
oh.
Spirit Fountain
Back
to the dregs.
the wellspring
of the unoriginal.
I don’t hate it –
In fact I missed you,
my crooked familiar Muse.
I’m back
until I waltz again.
Dead Soul Walking [365 Halloweens]
step
laugh
drink
cheer
fuck
eat
roll.
anything to fill
the void
that is not-
that will not.
A hungry bitch
of a whale,
there will never be enough
to feed the silence
she
needs more.
yet we throw crumbs of
love, lust, art, adventure….
but we know,
we know
what awaits.
theDeprevation 